A Forbidden Passion
by Courtney104DeNoir
Summary: Winnie comes to Moonacre after her father died in a gambling accident. Her uncle is stern and uptight, and there is a boy in the forest who wants something from her. He looks at her with a forbidden passion-and it scares her. Robin and OC!
1. Chapter 1

A Forbidden Passion

Synopsis: Winifred (also known as Winnie) Merryweather arrives at Moonacre after her father died in a gambling accident. Her uncle is stern and uptight, and quite odd things start to happen in the manor. To top it off, there is this boy in the forest that looks at her with a forbidden passion—and it scares her.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Secret of Moonacre, nor do I own the Little White Horse. All credits to Elizabeth Gouge! I followed the plot of the movie, so I don't own that either, ha. I kind of followed it bit by bit, too.

Ages: Robin is 18, and Winnie is 16.

Chapter One: An Unpleasant Welcome to Moonacre

Winnie's POV

The girl in the carriage had never seen the country before, and was quite astonished by what her eyes beheld. Trees. There were trees as far as the eye could see, and Winnie swore that there was about a million in there. The carriage lurched forward, sending her sprawling forwards. "Ugh!" Winnie groaned loudly. "The countryside is too full of… the _countryside._"

Her humble driver slapped the reins on his dapple-gray horse, making the poor animal run faster and harder. Winnie pushed back her thick strawberry blonde curls and smoothed out the wrinkles on her dark violet dress. The poor girl could hardly breathe in her tight corset.

They pulled into the gravelly driveway with ease, and the driver, who she remembered as "Mr. Digweed", jumped off his seat and walked to the great iron gates. He fiddled with the keys momentarily. "Is Uncle Benjamin coming to greet me?" The girl asked the man, and frowned when she had no response. "The man is obviously a half-wit," She mumbled to herself as she stuck body out the window in attempt to call again.

Suddenly, a pair of well-built arms wrapped around her small frame and tried with all their might to tug her from the carriage. She looked up at the person to whom the arms belonged to, and she saw a boy. A boy of about the age of seventeen or eighteen—or maybe even older. His chocolate brown eyes burned with fury and determination to get what he wanted. But why he wanted her so badly, she had no clue.

"Open the door!" He shouted to another of his kind as Winnie struggled in his arms. The boy looked down at the girl, her beautiful face paled and angry. The other boy tugged on the locked door of the carriage with all of his might, but she knew it wouldn't give away.

Atop his luscious brown curls was a black bowler hat. "Let…me…go!" She wrestled those arms ferociously, but he wouldn't let her go. Quickly she thought of the Classical French Needlepoint sewing she'd been doing in the back. She reached back with her free hand and snatched a pin from the pin pillow. Gathering courage, Winnie raked it across his hand.

The boy let her go with a cry of pain, letting the girl wrench herself from his loosened grip. Mr. Digweed apparently had mounted his horse again, for the carriage heaved on forwards through the gates. The boy, being caught with the force of it, toppled off the carriage, but he sprung up again and raced towards the carriage again.

Bur being the smart girl she was, Winnie reached out and tugged on the rope; triggering the gate's closing. "No, no, no!" Both boys screamed as they raced to catch up before the gate shut. But it already had.

Winnie couldn't help but look back at them with satisfaction. The boy who had manhandled her shook the iron bars of the gate violently. When he noticed the little smirk spread across her beautiful features, he screamed in frustration.

She flopped back against the leather seat of the carriage, relieved that she'd made it out alive. Never had she been assaulted like that in her life. Maybe it was because she grew up in the city of London, where all of the men were _gentle_men. But the men here were savages, bandits, and plunderers. One the ride stopped, she grabbed her valise and scuttled out of the door.

Towards the great porch she ran, out of breath and afraid that there were more handsome males to batter her. "That'll be Miss Winifred Merryweather," Mr. Digweed said to the man coming down the steps. "I know, Digweed." He replied, a little irritated. When he reached her, he shook her hand roughly. "Sir Benjamin," Her uncle addressed her. "But you may call me Uncle Benjamin." She nodded at him.

Uncle Benjamin's eyes were a deep muddy brown, but still friendly looking. He gave her a sheepish grin. "Welcome to Moonacre," He told her. "Please," She started. "Call me Winnie."

"Well, then. How was your trip, _Winnie_?" He emphasized the last word loudly. The girl blushed. _Absolutely horrid, _was what she ached to tell him. But instead she went with, "Wonderful, simply wonderful." Her uncle seemed to notice the lie in her tone.

Uncle Benjamin ordered Mr. Digweed to take her valise and other items from her home up to her room. "When will Mrs. Heliotrope be coming?" She questioned him. Her governess Jane Heliotrope did not ride with her, for she had terrible indigestion problems and utter dislike for carriages on rocky, countryside terrain. "I received a telegram that told me that she'd arrive precisely around seven o' clock." Winnie frowned. She'd have to spend a whole hour with a man that she didn't even know.

And the girl had to be on her best behavior. She looked up at the large house. "This is Moonacre Manor," Uncle Benjamin said to her, following her line of gaze. "It'll be your new home from now on." Winnie gaped in awe. It was so large compared to her little city street house on the corner of Appleton Street.

"Might I see to my room, Uncle?" The polite girl asked her uncle. "Oh yes, of course." He replied to her. He led her down a massive foyer with windows and great maroon drapes and tapestry with white threaded baubles hanging down like snowflakes. Uncle Benjamin guided her up the winding staircase to her room. It was so dark and filled to the brim with shadows. The shadows were like puppets, marionettes, dancing and teasing her on the gray stonewalls. She cringed; one seemed to wave evilly to her.

"Maybe I should have a room where there is more sunlight. How I do love my sweet sunshine—"

"Perhaps you'd like to inspect your room before you turn your nose at it." He grumbled. He almost lost her around another sharp corner, but she could still make out a small outline of him. Finally, there was a light at the end of her darkness, which seemed to her eternal. Little glass lamps hung beside her little white door and three small steps led up to her room. "Thank you, uncle—"

When she turned around, she noticed that her uncle was no longer there anymore. Winnie frowned. "Charmed, I'm sure…" She grumbled. Her eyes caught sight of the wall behind her. She ran two fingers over the marble wall, and cringed at the layer of dust that sat upon her fingers.

"This place could most definitely use a good maid."

She went to open the door of her new room, and her mouth fell agape at the sight. The light baby blue walls had little villages painted on it. Oh, and the bed! The bed had a great marble seashell frame, and the bedside table was an identical seashell. Beside where she stood, there was a comfy looking cream-colored chair resting by a blazing hearth. She went to it, and ran her fingers over the intricate seashell design on that. She grinned.

Winnie had never had anything so close to royalty before. Sure, her family was rich—but that didn't mean her father would give her anything to spend on her own possessions. It was all gambling, and throwing his money around in other people's faces. Beside the hearth was a wooden writing desk and a quill dipped in blue ink. And paper to write stories!

She looked up to the heavens to praise the Lord, but she found that the heavens were much closer to her than she suspected. "Oh my God," She gasped. The dark sky was a blue-ish black with gleaming stars as bright as pearls. Her heart was threatening to fail her. Clouds filled the sky, making the nighttime sight even more magical and majestic looking. But it wasn't the real sky—when she'd been outside only moments ago, the sun was barely setting.

But how could uncle pull off such a stunt as to mount such a painting on a wall that sloped? And it didn't even look painted!

She sat on her bed and gazed at the beauteous sight. Winnie snapped out of her marveling and stood straight up when she heard a knock sound at her door. "Who's there?"

A/N: OK, the end of the first chappie! And more to come, also. Please, please, please, please, please review and review! I promise that the Robin bits will start up soon! Also, to change it up a little bit from the regular stuff, I will make ~romance~ between the two start early… :)

I am excited.

P.S. Breathe Me readers: Epilogue will be posted soon:) Most likely this weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**A/N:** **Hello. Sorry, sorry, sorry I've kept you guys waiting so long. I've been focused on my Narnia Fanfiction The Darkest Cravings, that I hadn't much time to spare for my Little White Horse readers. Very sorry for that.**

**Some things that inspire A Forbidden Passion:**

**-Mountain Dew soda**

**-My lovely reviewer**

**-Heartbreaker by Pink**

**-Stars by Christian Henson**

**-Robin De Noir:)**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Little White Horse, nor do I own any of the wonderful characters.**

**Shall we begin chapter two?**

She opened the door and peered out into the emptiness. Then, she saw her valise sitting at the edge of the three marble steps. She smiled, thinking that Mr. Digweed had brought that to her. As she picked up, sitting straight, she saw a portrait of a woman hanging on the wall. Winnie tilted her head.

The woman looked like a princess, standing in a forest of looming trees. _Pretty,_ she thought. Winnie rummaged through her bag and pulled out her book. She hadn't the time to read her book before she came to Moonacre, and while she was doing nothing she decided to read it. The cover read, _The Ancient Chronicles of Moonacre Valley._ "At least father didn't leave me a boring book as my only inheritance,"

_Once upon a perfect time, many hundreds of years ago, when the old magic clung to Moonacre Valley like early morning mist, there was a young woman whose skin gleamed as pale as a star, and whose heart was as pure as moonlight. Such was her bravery and goodness, she was beloved by nature, as if she were its own daughter. One fateful night, the moon blessed her with an extraordinary gift that would change the magic of the valley forever—the moon pearls. From that day forth, she was known as the moon princess._

_Two ancient families lived in harmony at the edge of the valley, sharing nature's bounty. Daughter of the De Noir clan, the moon princess, fell deeply in love, and was to be married to Sir Wrolf Merryweather. Her father, Sir William De Noir, blessed the union by presenting the couple with a rare, black lion._

"_For my daughter's bride groom," He said. "Thank you father," She replied happily._

_In turn, Wrolf gave his bride a unicorn, lured from the wild white horses of the sea. "Only an animal of such beauty and purity could be the companion of the moon princess." Her heart overflowing with happiness, the moon princess revealed the magical pearls to both families. "Nurtured fathoms deep in the heart of the ocean, these pearls were given to us by Mother Nature herself, promising untold riches to us all. Look. They have unique power. They can reveal the truth in men's hearts."_

_Legend told of their unique power, so strong that they could grant every wish—both good and evil._

Winnie gazed at the beautiful moon princess, her expression twisted with fear and confusion. She slammed the book, a bit shaken from the picture. The least father could do was leave her a happy book—and so far, she wasn't really feeling the love. What else did she have in here? A silver key tied to blue ribbons; a gift from father on her fifth birthday. There were dresses, shoes, and hair pins, clips and more ribbons. She had a bonnet for every dress, but didn't really favor some itchy piece of material atop her soft strawberry blonde head, whereas Mrs. Heliotrope never went anywhere without one.

Speaking of her governess, Winnie looked to the clock that sat on the wall. "Six thirty." At least the girl had wasted a good thirty minutes. She pulled a small hair brush from her valise and brushed her curls before going down to find her uncle.

She tried to find her way down the dark hallway, but she didn't really succeed in that too well. "Oof," She grunted as she rammed her waist into a small glass end table with pointed corners. "The Lord made light for a reason." Winnie grumbled to herself. Finally, she saw a light at the end of the tunnel and happily ran towards it. "Oh, uncle I was looking for you…" She trailed off when she noticed that the being on the couch was not Uncle Benjamin, but his large black beast of a dog Wrolf.

When she cautiously stepped back, the dog barked at her. Winnie swore that it was more like a roar. "This is Wrolf," Uncle's voice echoed from the end of the hall. When he noticed the terrified look on her face, he informed, "You're a Merryweather—he very probably won't hurt you." The small girl exhaled in relief.

"If you're hungry, food is on the table. Once Jane (A/N: Mrs. Heliotrope, but Uncle B. calls her by her first name.) arrives, then I'll let you settle in. And tomorrow will be our proper tour of the manor." She gave her uncle a small curtsy. "Of course," She replied sweetly. She eyed that dog/beast as she scurried into the dining hall. There was a long wooden table with every food that could come to her mind.

Figs, jam tarts, sandwiches, soups, meats and potatoes—oh, the girl had never had such a meal. "He certainly knows how to prepare a nice supper." She told herself as she sat down in her seat. Hungrily, she grabbed a large china plate and stuffed it with the delicious foods that were in her reach. "Now Miss Merryweather, how very impolite of you to stuff your self like that!" A familiar voice fussed. Winnie knew that voice anywhere—Mrs. Heliotrope.

She ran from the table to embrace her governess tightly. The woman, not liking this hug at all, just simply patted her back in a disgusted sort of way. "How was your ride, Mrs. Heliotrope?"

In response, the older woman belched loudly. "Oh, absolutely horrid. Rocky roads and a wobbly carriage was no way to treat my sensitive stomach. And I must complain to Dr. Meade about these charcoal tablets! Why, they did nothing for my indigestion." Winnie tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn't miss her governess' fretting and complaining. If she had been on her ride, she'd be over the top. "But luckily for my Classical French Needlepoint system, I didn't really have a problem with the dizziness from watching trees whiz by your carriage. But all that jostling like I was a mere rag doll put me into a rage!"

"Well, I was ambushed." The girl mumbled during the older woman's small fit. But she should have known better for Mrs. Heliotrope had ears like a hawk. "Ambushed! What an outrage! Did you tell your uncle, Winifred?" She shook her head sheepishly. The woman dropped her bags and rushed out of the door to her uncle. "This is a perfect way to start the night at a new home." The girl sighed in annoyance.

"Winifred was attacked at the very gates of your home, Sir Benjamin!" Uncle Benjamin turned his dark eyes upon Winnie as she entered the room. "I will tell you one thing, Miss Merryweather. Stay _out _of the forest."

* * *

Winnie stretched in her bed and opened her eyes to a small platter of biscuits sitting on her leaf table. She sat up and took one of the intricately designed biscuits. It smelled good, but she had no idea where these came from. She ran her tongue over the side of the sweet treat, and decided it was good enough to eat. She sipped the small wine glass of milk and looked around the room. It was still hers to customize and enjoy.

She sat up and shrugged off her bed jacket. On the cream colored chair there sat a dark brown (like the color of Uncle Benjamin's eyes) dress with the letter _L_ stitched onto the sleeve. Winnie held it up to her curvy figure and cringed at how bad it looked on her. "No, I think not." She said and dropped the material back onto her chair. She went to her valise and picked a pretty maroon frock with a white lace rim. She picked a bonnet just to make Mrs. Heliotrope happy. She laced her black boots and smoothed the neckline of the dress down further than Mrs. Heliotrope would ever approve of.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Boys would be drooling! Maybe even that boy that ambushed her. She felt oddly attracted to him, but cursed herself for it. She picked up the book and cradled it against her (only a tiny bit) exposed chest.

As she quietly descended the steps, she heard the beautiful music of Clair de Lune on the piano. "I didn't know uncle played the piano…nor did I know he even had one." She followed the sweet music until she reached her destination.

The piano was grand, but very old. She expected to see her uncle sitting on the bench, but she saw no one. Her jaw dropped open as she inched her way over to the instrument. But how could the piano play music all on its own? Impossible!

The sweet song of Clair de Lune kept playing as her shaky fingers fumbled to the lid to reveal a row of rotting keys. She gasped loudly; they pressed down all on their own. Was it a ghost? Oddly enough, she didn't feel scared. When she heard footsteps behind her, she slammed the lid in the midst of the climax of the song. "Good morning," Uncle mumbled to her, but did a double take when he noticed what she clasped to her chest.

"Where did you get that?" He hissed at her. "Oh, papa left it to me." Uncle Benjamin's eyes grew even stormier than they already were. "Well he had no right to. This belongs here." Winnie watched with astonishment as her uncle seized the book from her grasp and stalked off. Filled with anger and disbelief, the girl burst through the doors that separated her from the dining room.

"Mrs. Heliotrope, tell him to return my book to me!" The woman looked at her with surprise as she shoveled another spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth. "Good Heavens, child! Where's your self-restraint?" The woman scolded. "But you see, he took to my only inheritance—"

"Winnie!" The younger girl shut her mouth and sat down at the table. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's just keeping it in a safe place for you." Winnie played with her oatmeal, her temperature rising. On the other hand, Mrs. Heliotrope was savoring every bite of that country food. Mr. Digweed came back with two plates of eggs and bacon. "That'll be your breakfasts, then." He said.

The dining room doors flew open as that "book-stealer" made his appearance and sat at the end of the table. Winnie frowned down at her food. "Winnie darling, you must try these jelly rolls and cinnamon sprinkled honey dough—"

"Mmm-hmm," Uncle interrupted. "A dish best enjoyed in silence, I'm told." Mrs. Heliotrope stared, dumbstruck. Winnie watched her uncle noisily pour himself a cup of hot tea. She tried her best to ignore it, but he was just so—

_Crack!_ Uncle dumped a raw egg into his tea and the young girl's stomach churned.

She saw her governess cringe as he started to stir it with a silver spoon. "You really ought to return the book to me." She noted. Her uncle glared up at her as he sipped his drink. "Your cook is wonderful! Have you had her long?" Mrs. Heliotrope tried to cover the awkward silence.

"Madam, no woman has stepped foot in this house in years. And I must say, I was enjoying this nice silence." Mrs. Heliotrope stared again. "Well Winnie, I must say that this country food is absolutely delicious—"

"Cat's teeth! Can't a man enjoy a bit of quiet in his own home?" His tone immediately silenced both guests sitting at the table. Winnie was tired of Uncle Benjamin being rude to her and her governess. "Well, do tell us uncle. Why did you invite such noisy, irritating females into your nice, quiet home?" Uncle slammed his glass down onto the table, angered by Winnie's snarky comment. "My hopeless brother dies in debt so it falls on me to give you a place to live. The man was a cowardly good for nothing—"

Mrs. Heliotrope stared at him in shock. "Sir Benjamin!" She snapped. "How dare you say that? My father was a colonel!" Winnie was surprised at how quickly she jumped to defend her father. Her piercing honey golden eyes sliced right through his dark ones. "Yes, he died in debt owing money to half the country." He retorted back with the same force as the girl. "He _fought_ for his country." She lowered her eyes at him and glowered.

"And got himself killed in a back street gambling game, throwing money once, too many times at the wrong kind of money-lenders. But of course it's a crime to take money from your own brother, who offered over ten times, knowing that his brother was in terrible debt. The damned fool and his pride."

Winnie sat down in her chair, defeated. "You are still a Merryweather, Winnie. And this is where you belong, and where you shall stay." Benjamin gave his empty cup to Mr. Digweed and left the table hastily. The girl sat in silence, feeling guilty for snapping at her uncle like that.

She left the table also, to go outside for some fresh air. And she didn't care if those idiot boys harassed her again. She didn't really care about if she got lost, either.

* * *

So sorry for the wait, you guys! I hope Chapter Two holds you off while I work on my other stories. I am so sorry for the inconvience... Love my reviewers!


	3. Author's Note

Hello my fellow readers who like this fic.. sorry to say that I will not be continuing it for I've moved on to other fandoms like Narnia and Lord of the Rings (the best!) So let me get to the point—I'm putting this little fic up for **adoption**, and offering it to those who think that they can take on the challenge. Sorry I haven't really given you anything to write with, but that's what your brain's for!

If you like this Fanfiction, you can try my other finished story called Breathe Me, (and review please:D) and many have enjoyed that already. So please, please, adopt this little fic and make it happy! If you feel up to the challenge, PM me and I'll hand it over to you.

Now, I understand that adoption fanfics don't get very far with readers, and this story is just like a child wanting to be adopted! It wants a home that I unfortunately can't give. Hope you take this into consideration:) and make this fic a happy little one.

Sincerely Yours,

Courtney104DeNoir


	4. It's Been Adopted!

Hello again! I am very happy to say that adoption was a success and I greatfully handed the fic over to my good reviewer xpen7777! Hopefully xpen7777 will have the "third chapter" finished soon and ready to post.

My apologies to** Fanficfreak2000**: I've lost my muse for Little White Horse and I've moved on to a different fandom after reading pretty much ever story in the fandom... I understand that you like my story, and I _praise_ you for that. If you like this story, wait until xpen7777's version and later chapters come out. Or read my finished story Breathe Me. And if you do read that one, review it and tell me how you like it. :) Thanks so much!

I just really hope that my reviewers will follow this story into the next world (*cough* the next book) and enjoy from a different author's perspective. You don't know how much I thank you all for sticking with me. ;-) I'm waiting on edge for the third chapter.

Until we meet again, (or until I have to tell you all something, lol)

**_Courtney104DeNoir_**


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